Hollow
by tibbyrollins
Summary: Years later, Will finds Quinn in the last place he expected. Quinn/Will "I'm not the hooker with the heart of gold and you're not the millionaire that's going to scale my balcony and come save me. So stop trying to think of ways that you can."


**I don't own Glee or the characters blahblah etc.**

Will didn't exactly live an exciting life. He was alone and didn't have any friends and he didn't really care. He hadn't really been the same since the kids lost Nationals _again_ five years ago. They had failed – no, _he_ had failed them. Again. After that he couldn't find himself to really care about anything. Emma left him and then the kids graduated, leaving him alone once again.

He decided not to run the Glee Club anymore after that year and nobody fought him on it. The club was disbanded and nobody else seemed to care. Will went through his days on autopilot and went home at night to an empty house but he couldn't force himself to care.

Christmas break was the worst. It just reminded him just how utterly alone he was as he stayed home during the days and went to sleep early during the nights. It was December 23rd and all he wanted was to fast forward to January 4th so he could go back to school.

He was out of bread. He didn't know was possessed him to make a grilled cheese sandwich at midnight but when he tried to make it he noticed that the bread was gone. He sighed and went out to his car to go to the store.

Before he knew it he found himself in the city. Well, as much of a city as Lima could have. It was fifteen minutes away from his house and he didn't go there often, he didn't see the point. How he drove past the corner store he doesn't know, he's running on autopilot like he has been for the last five years.

He's about to turn around when he sees a flash of blonde hair. She's standing on the corner in only a short thin dress and a light jacket. His heart clenches because this is _not_ the girl he remembers and he wonders just what she's doing. Well, he knows what she's _doing_ but he wants to know _why._

Even though he knows that picking up a prostitute, oh God even when he thinks of the word he wants to cry, is illegal he can't help himself. He pulls up and parks his car next to the curb. That's the protocol, right? As she quickly opens the car door and slides into his car he gets his answer.

"It's $80 an hour. More for whatever weird ass fetish you have." She looks up at him and lets out a laugh. "You'll probably want me to wear a sweater vest, right?"

He stares back at her. "That's not funny, Quinn."

"Whatever. You might want to pull away from the curb, you're drawing attention. I don't feel like getting arrested tonight." She looks out the window. "Unless you don't plan on doing anything with me. In that case, I'll just get out this piece of junk so I can actually make some money tonight."

As she puts her hand on the door handle he starts the car and drives off. He doesn't know why he does it. It's not that he wants to sleep with her; he just doesn't want her to have to sleep with some other pathetic guy tonight.

"Where are we going?"

He takes a moment to think about it. "My apartment."

She nods before looking out the window, a bored look on her face. He wonders just how long she's been doing this. Months? Years? The thought makes him sick and he can't help but want to do something. Do her parents know? Has she talked to Puck or Rachel since they graduated? His thoughts float to Emma. Once they get to his apartment he'll tell Quinn he needs to use the bathroom and call her. She'll know what to do.

"Stop it."

He breaks out of his thoughts and looks at her, raising an eyebrow. "Stop what?"

"Whatever stunt you're thinking about pulling. You have your thinking face on and I know you're trying to come up with a plan."

"I have a thinking face?"

She nods. "It kind of looks like you have a stomach ache. You're about as transparent as a window." She turns in her seat to face him. "But last time I checked, you don't have gray hair and I don't have an obnoxious overbearing laugh. I'm not the hooker with the heart of gold and you're not the millionaire that's going to scale my balcony and come save me. So stop trying to think of ways that you can."

"What does that even mean?"

"Are you kidding? You've never seen _Pretty Woman?_" She rolls her eyes. "No wonder you're single."

He stops at a red light and takes the time to study her. She's skinnier than she was in high school, her hair is shorter. She's definitely meaner. But there's something else. He chances looking into her eyes and when he does his suspicions are confirmed. She's high. At least he has some sort of reason to work with for why she does this.

The rest of the ride back to his place is silent and he's grateful. He doesn't know how many more insults he can take. Once they pull up and get out he looks at her again. "It's apartment 3—"

"3B." At his curious look she laughs. "I was in your apartment a lot sophomore year. You know, when your wife wanted to take my kid?"

He stops walking and stares at her. How can she just bring it up so casually? She's not the Quinn he once knew and he just shakes his head and follows her into his apartment.

She takes off her jacket and places it on the counter. "You haven't redecorated."

He shrugs. "I like it like this."

"Of course you do. Nice and boring." She turns her back on him and walks into his bedroom. Ah, so it's right down to business. He apprehensively follows her, swallowing hard when he sees her sitting on his bed.

"Do you want something to drink?"

She laughs. "You don't need to try and be a charming host. I'm a sure thing."

"I wasn't…"

She stands up and walks over to him slowly. "Relax, Will. Oh, or do you still want me to call you Mr. Shuester? I can be your student still."

He quickly shakes his head. "No. Call me Will." His head is spinning and everything in him is screaming at him that this is wrong but he doesn't know what to do.

"Whatever you want. You're the boss." She pulls her dress over her head and suddenly she's naked. He tries not to look but he hasn't been with a woman in _years_ and his eyes travel up and down her body. It's weird, but all he can think of is how cold she must be when she's standing outside in just that thin dress and that sorry excuse for a coat.

She's standing there just waiting for him to do something but he can't do anything. She's Quinn Fabray and she's innocent and perfect and this can't be happening. He won't lie, he entertained thoughts of her in high school and she even appeared in several of his dreams wearing her Cheerio's uniform but it was never anything like _this._

He hears her sigh irritably before her mouth is suddenly covering his and he finds himself kissing her back. She pulls off his shirt and he actually feels alive for the first time in five years. He pushes her back onto his bed and kisses her neck as she unbuttons his jeans. He kicks them off the rest of the way, quickly grabbing a condom out of his bedside drawer and starts kissing her neck. His hand finds its way to her folds and she's wet and he takes a shuddering breath.

She starts laughing and he looks up. "What?"

"When you're paying for it you _really_ don't need to waste time on the foreplay." She shrugs. "Whatever, it's your money."

He's silent for a moment. "I… I don't know how to handle this, Quinn. I've never…"

"Bought a whore before?" He opens his mouth to disagree, he doesn't think of her as a _whore_, but she speaks before he can. "Don't worry, Will. I'm _very_ good at what I do."

And before he knows it he's flipped onto his back and she kissing down his chest. He bites his lip as he feels her pull off his boxers, placing the condom on him and then she slips on top of him and it's so warm and he can barely breathe.

She leans down to whisper in his ear, a smirk on her face. "Breathe, Will."

He looks up at her and he wants to cry because she's so beautiful and she doesn't even know it. She thinks of herself as whore and he hopes to God that she doesn't think that's all he thinks of her as. He runs his hands up and down her body as she rides him and he feels himself start to fall apart but he wants to wait for her because she deserves some pleasure out this too.

She covers his mouth with hers once again and he runs his fingers through her hair. She moans into his mouth and that's all it takes before he comes.

And it's over. She gets off of him and puts her dress back on and walks out of his room. He quickly jumps off his bed and takes a relieved breath when he realizes that she's in the bathroom and not… gone. He grabs a Kleenex and cleans himself up, throwing the condom in the trash next to his bed before he quickly gets dressed again.

He walks into the kitchen to wait for her. He sees that her jacket is no longer on the counter and sighs when he realizes that she must have taken it into the bathroom with her. She's probably shooting up in his bathroom right now and all he can think about is how she's still so young and how this isn't right.

She walks out of the bathroom and looks at him, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head. "Do you want some coffee?"

She sits down and shrugs, her eyes glassy. "Whatever."

He flips the coffee maker on and watches it for several seconds before looking back at her. "Smack?"

"_Smack?"_ She snorts. "Do people honestly call it that anymore?"

Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair. "You didn't answer my question."

"No. Not… smack." She says it in this voice as if it's the funniest thing in the world. "OxyContin."

He hands her a cup of coffee. "How long?"

"Hmm, since my college boyfriend threw me down a flight of stairs my sophomore year at Ohio State."

"What happened after that?"

"I dropped out. Didn't want go back home."

"So that's when you started…" Will can't even say it.

"Yes. That's when I started fucking guys for money." She claps with fake enthusiasm. "Yay! You figured out the hooker's sad life story. If this were a movie this is the part where I'd start crying and I'd fall into your arms."

He laughs. "Something tells me that that's not going to happen."

"You're right. I don't wanna fuck up my make up." They're both silent for a moment before she gets up and slips her coat on.

"Wait." Will walks closer to her. "Stay."

"I don't do sleepovers."

"No, I didn't mean it like that." Suddenly he's grabbing her hands and staring into her eyes. "Stay with me. Permanently. You can stay in the guest room and I'll find you a job and we'll get you clean. I'm not asking to be your boyfriend or a fuck buddy. We'll just be friends. Roommates."

She stares at him for a second before she starts laughing. "No thanks. I already told you that you're not Richard Gere and I'm not Julia Roberts. This isn't some stupid fairytale, Will." Pulling away from him she backs towards the door and holds out a hand. "You have two choices. Pay me or fuck me again."

He shakes his head and pulls his wallet out, placing a few bills in her hand.

"Are you kidding me? You're giving me $200? I've barely even been with you an hour."

"It's not a big deal, Quinn." He shrugs. "I want you to have it."

"I don't need your charity." She takes $70 out of the pile and throws it back at him. "Take the rest to buy yourself something other than sweater vests. Fuck off." Then she whips open his door and runs out. She's gone.

"Fuck!" Kicking the door closed and running a hand through his hair, he decides that he's an idiot.

He picks up her coffee cup and stares at it. She's gone and he didn't do anything to help her. He fucked her like she was just some whore he picked up off the street. It hits him like a freight train. Once again, he's failed her.

It's like he's back to running on autopilot when he picks his phone up and goes through his contacts until he finds her name. He hits send and waits for her to pick up.

"Listen, I'm sorry for calling so late. I really need your help, Sue."


End file.
